


Bruised

by hawkfruit



Category: Lovestruck - Fandom, Starship Promise (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Atlas is a sad boi, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Lime, Mild Sexual Content, but when is he not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkfruit/pseuds/hawkfruit
Summary: To save the fate of the Promise and those she loves, Hallie decides to give herself up to the Empire. Atlas, used to but aggravated at the self-sacrificing nature of the love of his life, goes to save her, but what he doesn't expect is the pain that being a prisoner brings.





	Bruised

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just popped into my head while reading Atlas' route and would not let me go. It's based on two events that happen in his story, but it's changed a bit to put Atlas' angst in the spotlight, and it's not explicitly tied to one of them so you can read it without having really read all his seasons. It's based somewhere during/ after season 4-ish, I'd say, based on how their relationship is. Hope you enjoy!

The evening drags on with a pleasantly slow speed, like lunar honey dripping from a spoon. The members of the small crew laugh over old image files and share stories from days before they had met. Over soft chuckles and endearing jabs they patch up a few minor scrapes from an encounter earlier that day. Even with the joyous mood trying so hard to wipe away at the tension for just one night, though, there is still the unsettled feeling of unfinished business, and Atlas could tell that no one else quite enjoyed how things had turned out either— not bad, for once, but not quite good either. There were plenty of dangers looming uncomfortably close that they would have to deal with, and soon. Plenty of things that could go wrong. But they had made it out alive, and tomorrow was another day for the five of them.

Six of them, he was quickly reminded, by the soft ears of Comet suddenly brushing against the back of his leg. It peaked up at him curiously, as he was currently the only one not actively part of the conversation, and he simply gave it a lazy salute. Seemingly content Comet bounced off in a blur of green, and Atlas chuckled to himself.

Saluting a weird space rabbit. Where had his life led him?

A startlingly loud laugh burst out of someone nearby, and Atlas looked up to see pale, shaking shoulders and cheerfully bouncing blonde hair.

That’s right. Life had led him to her.

“You’re smiling,” Nova pointed out quietly, in that perfectly monotone way of hers.

Atlas schooled his features. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“He’s doing that a lot more now, lately,” Orion mumbled, but his tone was distracted, his cheeks still tinted slightly pink.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Orion,” Hallie grinned broadly, still trying to hold back her laughter. “Did you really do _that_ on Moon-887?”

“Oh yes,” Jaxon drawled with a shit-eating grin. “Three times, actually. It was quite an afternoon.”

She burst out giggling again, and when her eyes rose to meet Atlas’ they were crinkled with laugh lines and absolutely sparkling. He felt something warm grow in his chest, felt his eyes glued to her.

With a casual shrug Atlas deadpanned, still swirling an untouched cup of whiskey in his hand. “Still not as bad as Moon-529, when Jaxon found a bar with a—” a _thud_ unceremoniously cut him off as one pillow smacked him in the face, and a second into his arm, sending his drink flying all over him.

He sat perfectly still as the pillows slid off him, and once he could see again he glared at a somewhat horrified-looking Jaxon, both arms still poised incriminatingly in their throwing position and the two couch pillows suddenly missing.

There was a tense moment of silence, and Atlas’ voice was a low threat. “If you ever do that again, I will personally use my boot to shove you out of the airlock directly into a black hole.”

He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that the nervous look on Jaxon’s face gave him a sense of satisfaction. Nova was suddenly next to him with a towel, and with a grunted ‘thanks’ he began wiping at his shirt.

It was a small, exasperated laugh that made him look up, to which he saw Hallie as she padded over to him. “Let’s clean you up properly.” She held her hand out to him, and the pale light of his ship’s bulbs set the small wisps of frizz around her hair alight like a faded halo. It took him an embarrassingly long second to come back to himself, but when he did he cleared his throat, grumbled some nonsense as he placed his hand in her small one and stood up with a groan.

As they passed the couch Jaxon and Orion were already whispering to each other again. When Hallie gave them a wave goodnight, Atlas shot a glare over her shoulder and saw Jaxon visibly swallow.

His returning sadistic thoughts were cut off when he felt a jab at his side. He shot Hallie a confused look. “What?” His voice came out rougher than he intended, but he knew she understood.

There was a goofy smile on her lips. “You really are an old man, aren’t you?” She prodded him in the ribs again. “When you stood up you groaned _so_ loudly!”

Against his will his lip twitched upwards, but he covered it by throwing an arm around her shoulder and pressing her against his side while they walked down the corridor. She nuzzled into his chest and he felt his heart swell. “Shut up,” the bite behind his words was entirely swallowed by the affection in his voice.

“I swear I heard every joint in your hips pop twice,” she mumbled into his chest.

The second the door opened to his room he spun her so that she was pressed in between the wall and his body. She drew in a sharp breath, looking up at him with wide eyes, and he managed to speak in a low, even tone, head hovering close to hers, “That one might be your fault.”

This close he could watch the blush spread from her cheeks across her freckled nose, all the way to her ears. A mix of surprise and deep want flitted across her eyes, and he felt warm in every place her body was pressed against his. It may have taken him a while to be comfortable around her in this way, but now that he was he relished every moment he could make her squirm, or blush, or pant…

“I-is there anything I could do to— er— fix that?” She said, in that endearingly awkward way of hers he knew meant she was flustered. And even though her lips were parted into a perfect pink ‘o,’ and even though she was looking up at him through her lashes, and even though her cheeks were perfectly flushed he couldn’t help it.

He laughed.

He pulled slightly away from her, back hunched and hands actually on his stomach, as his chest shook with the vibrations of laughter he so wasn’t used to. It wasn’t his laugh. It was loud, and genuine, and continuous, and it sounded a bit breathy even to his own ears. It was the laugh of a happy man. The man he was around her.

“Okay, okay!” She was saying, but the indignant puff of her cheeks and furtherly red cheeks only made him laugh longer until tears actually sprung at the corners of his eyes. “Okay! That’s enough! You know, laughing isn’t exactly the best reaction to someone trying to be seductive.”

“Pff— aha— that was— that was seductive?” He couldn’t help shooting back in between slowly subsiding laughs, and with a hefty huff she pushed his shoulders until he fell back against his mattress. “Oof— ha— careful, you were just calling me old.”

Atlas sat up against his elbows, a quiet, slight shake still in his shoulders and a smile set against his lips. But when Hallie walked towards him it was with a sway of her hips and a renewed sense of purpose in her eyes, and suddenly he wasn’t smiling anymore. His gaze trailed her, the bob of her hair, as she crawled over him so her plentiful thighs were straddling his hips, sitting up and looking down at him.

He watched as she slowly took her hair out of her ponytail, letting it cascade around them in a beautifully messy arc of gold strands, and she leaned down so it just tickled against his cheek and against the fabric of his clothes which he suddenly and desperately wished he was out of. “You tell me. Was it?” Her voice this time was low, and sure, but even through it all it held that hint of genuine and open affection she always had— which made his heart stutter all the harder.

Her face was slowly coming closer and closer until it was only inches, and then he gulped and it was only centimeters, and then her impossibly soft, rosy lips were brushing against his. He brought a calloused hand up to caress her cheekbone, and it ghosted against her ear and through her hair, pressing the back of her head closer to deepen the kiss. In response she rocked her hips against his, and the delicious friction made him let out a groan from deep in his throat. Despite the years of training that chorded his arms with muscles he felt his trembling, and he slowly brought himself back against the bed with her following him, her lips never leaving his. She kept one hand splayed against his chest, tugging softly at the hem of his shirt in a way that drove him absolutely mad, while her other hand was attempting in vain to brush away the hair that curtained around them.

As the swell of her chest now pressed against his, and as her hips kept rocking, maddeningly slowly, he ghosted one of his hands against her neck, over her shoulder, down her side, until he was drawing slow, lazy patterns against her upper outer thigh through her clothes. He eagerly responded as she pulled against his lower lip with her teeth and kissed him roughly. In retaliation he slid his hand in between their legs until it was resting against her inner thigh, going slowly further and further upwards, still tracing feather-light patterns. He let his fingers teasingly brush just over her cotton underwear before passing onto the other leg. She was letting out a series of whimpers against his mouth that made him delirious with lust, his pulse pounding against his throat, and he let out a low growl.

Something electrified between them, and he wasn’t sure who started it but suddenly they were kissing with renewed hunger, warmth burning around them, desperate, soft noises passing between them, and Atlas steadied both hands on her hips, ready to flip her over and keep her busy until whatever star they were currently closest to rose for a new day.

And then, of course, because Atlas could never be allowed to have nice things, there was a loud bang on his door. Hallie shot straight up in surprise, looking fully embarrassed even though no one actually walked in.

“Uh, hey man,” Jaxon called out from the other side, and Atlas swore he could _hear_ him scratching the back of his head. “Sorry about ruining your favorite shirt earlier— or, well, I assume it’s your favorite because it’s the only one you ever wear. I felt bad so I had Nova show me where the laundry room is— by the way, did you know we had one of those? Uh, so, anyway, here’s a cleaning stick that Orion apparently had laying around that’s supposed to get rid of stains.”

There was a horribly awkward pause, and Atlas realized his friend— if he could even currently be called that— was waiting for a response. “Just leave it at the door,” he responded, his voice a bit too hoarse.

“Alright, good night man.”

As Atlas grumbled back some response Hallie was trying to stifle her giggles on top of him. He threw his head back against the mattress with a huff. The moment was ruined, and they both knew it.

“Oh hubble,” she let out between laughs, “you look so grumpy right now. If only you could see your face.”

“It’s Atlas in his natural state,” he mumbled.

“Oh, that’s not true, you big softie.” She rolled off him and began slipping out of her clothes, preparing for sleep. He watched her uncover her pale freckled shoulder, but this time his chest was filled with affection instead of lust. It ebbed away at his sour turn of mood.

Once they were both ready and readjusted Atlas held up the covers and patted the spot next to where he lay. With a slight blush, even after all this time, she saddled herself up next to him, head pressed against his shoulder, arm strewn over his chest and legs tangled with his. He kept one arm wrapped protectively around her, and with the other flicked off the light next to their bed.

He felt warm, and safe, and content.

“Good night, Atlas.” She hummed in a whisper against his chest. “I love you.”

He pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the crown of her head. “Good night, kid.”

He didn’t say it out loud this time, but he didn’t have to. _I love you_ passed pleasantly between them in the night air.

 

* * *

 

To say Hallie woke up in the middle of the night would be to assume she had slept at all. Like a ticking clock, her heartbeat remained fast and persistent the entire night, mixing with the weight of her guilt to leave her awake.

Above her, a sigh stirred her hair, and she turned her head to look up at Atlas. His brows were furrowed and his nose was scrunched the way that they always were in his sleep when they were in the middle of a sticky situation. With a tiny, fond smile she reached up with trembling fingers and smoothed down the lines. He nudged gently towards the motion, and his expression shifted to serenely neutral.

He really did look so young when he slept, and so peaceful. She wanted to keep that peace, not only for him but for everyone in the crew. Everyone who had taken her in when she needed them most, who had defended her and helped her stand on her own two feet. The Promise Crew had come to mean so much to her so quickly that at first it had surprised her. But now she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

And she would do whatever she could to keep that peace.

With a surprising lack of clumsiness, Hallie untangled herself from his arms, methodically put her clothes on, and scribbled a short note. When the door slid open with a soft mechanic hum and a _click_ she looked back only once, at the wrinkles that had returned to Atlas’ forehead.

 

* * *

 

He read the words over for the third time before finally crushing the note within his fist. He swore, and couldn’t help knocking a few things over as he threw on his clothes. A minute later his feet were pounding out the door and he jammed his hand into the comm button at his pilot’s desk without any of the usual gentleness he showed towards his ship.

“We have a problem. Get to the bridge,” his voice came out rough through the speakers.

He wasn’t in chair for longer than a few seconds when the rest of the crew was already there, some even still shrugging on clothes from how quickly they had woken up. Atlas could complain about many things concerning the Promise crew, but they always knew when to square up for an emergency.

“What happened?” Nova’s voice formal and to-the-point.

Atlas considered just showing them the note so he wouldn’t have to talk, but the contents of it pulled at his heart so painfully that he decided against it. “Hallie turned herself in to Empire forces.”

“Why would she do that?” Jaxon’s voice was more urgent than Atlas was used to hearing.

“So that we could fly free?” Orion’s voice was tense underneath his usual calm. Atlas only gave a terse nod, and Orion shook his head. “She has too much of a martyr complex.”

Atlas bitterly thought to himself _‘You’re telling me,’_ but was too stressed to say it out loud. He just wanted to get off the planet and return her as quickly as possible to the safety of the Promise. To the circle of his arms. Or, at least, relative safety, where he and three other people were there to kick anyone’s ass that tried to harm her. Instead she wandered off into the pit of snakes on her own.

The thought of her there, alone, in an enemy base, made his stomach coil.

“What do you think, Atlas?” Nova’s acknowledgment made him realize he had been too deep in thought to keep up with the conversation, but she seemed to see this as she repeated “Is Hallie still on this planet?”

The gears in his brain kicked in. “No,” he said between the clenching of his jaw, “They’re probably still in this system but not on this planet. It depends on what time she left,” and he kept to himself the fact that he didn’t know that drove him crazy with worry, “but they would have put her in one of their holding ships by now. That’s what the Union told us was ‘the enemy’s’ protocol.”

“So we should try and track the nearest holding ship to pinpoint its location,” Jaxon said over his shoulder, and Atlas started typing away on the console.

“If not,” Orion leaned over to look at the screen too. “You can try hacking into the nearest Empire database and finding a log of prisoners.”

_Prisoner._ Hallie, a prisoner. Alone. Again. He typed faster.

“There,” Nova pointed.

He was in no way as good at this sort of thing as Hallie was, but through some small miracle they were able to find the coordinates of the nearest prisoner ship to them. There weren’t any prisoner names on it, only the planets from which they had been picked up, and there were a handful from the one they were currently on.

“This has to be it,” Jaxon said. “The issue is still whether or not they’ll actually let us off this planet.”

“We have to hope that they’ll strick true to their word with Hallie’s agreement.”

“They better.” The crew knew him well enough to grab on to something, because right after he spoke Atlas punched a button, pulled the levers, and they were flying.

 

* * *

 

It was by no small second miracle that the Empire had somehow stuck with their promise and allowed them now to safely leave the planet. Maybe they knew the crew would go rescue her and they hoped to catch them all, or maybe they simply didn’t care enough, but Atlas was starting to feel like they were running out of miracles.

He also felt like they would need another one to pull this off.

Luckily the ship was docked on a small fueling planet not too far out, and with the help of their new cloaking device, they were able to sneak the Promise in and land nearby. A few soldiers jumped and dumped in an alleyway later and the four crew members were donning Empire uniforms. All they needed was to swipe their ID badges at the check-in point of the ship, make small talk about the guard’s up-and-coming promotion, and they were in.

“I still think you should have let me flexed at some of the guards,” Jaxon whispered as they made their way down the hallway.

“No.” Orion’s voice was that perfect mix of exasperation, resignation, and calm, the way it always was.

“This way,” Nova said softly, glancing down at the holographic map coming out of her uniform’s wrist band before turning the corner.

The chattering remained at a low volume but Atlas was too busy trying to keep himself under control to focus. He hated the Union with everything he had, and everything he didn’t have, but at least he knew their procedures. He knew the way they usually treated prisoners, he knew how to break in and out of their ships better. The Empire, on the other hand, was completely foreign territory— territory that Hallie was currently stuck in. The continual thought of her alone in a cell somewhere, or of her going through space entirely alone if they hadn’t stowed onto this ship, if one of the fifty things that could go wrong goes wrong and he can’t save her, was eating away at his self-control.

“—Right, Atlas?”

Or even worse, what if she wasn’t alone? What if she was stuck in a cell with the galaxy’s worst criminals? He knew Hallie was intelligent and could defend herself, she had proved that time and time again in her time thus far as a bounty hunter, but alone in a cell with countless other hardened criminals and no weapon? The idea of anyone laying a finger on her made Atlas want to punch a hole through the ship’s walls.

“Atlas? Hello? Ground Control to Major Grump?”

It was only after Jaxon put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from walking further that Atlas realized he had been trying to speak to him. Orion and Nova went on to scout ahead, and Atlas didn’t even bother trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. “What?”

“You have to relax and focus.” His voice was slow and steady as if he was talking with a bomb about to explode. It only made Atlas more annoyed, quickening the pulse pounding against his skull.

“Yeah, great, I’ll do that. Thanks for suggesting it. I never considered it was that easy! The great Jaxon Silva, everyone.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone like venom, and he briefly wondered if their helmets would dent if he bashed it against a wall.

To his credit Jaxon didn’t retort or try to start a fight, and knowing Atlas well enough by now didn’t even look hurt at his words. He simply gave Atlas’ shoulder a squeeze, and with a meaningful look and a soft tone said, “She’ll be alright.”

Atlas’ bite fell away, for he only responded quietly, allowing a brief, rare moment of vulnerability show through. “Yeah. I hope you’re right.”

The two friends jogged down the corridor and caught up with Nova and Orion, who were on either side of the wall peering over where the hallway was bisected perpendicularly by another one. If he craned his head around the corner to his left he could see another corridor, this one long, patrolled by guards and with many doors.

Prison doors.

Nova checked the time on the arm brace in her uniform.

“In 42 seconds we will go relieve them of their position,” She whispered.

“You two,” Orion quietly said over the distance from the other wall, “go figure out which cell is hers and break her out. Jaxon and I’ll keep watch.”

They nodded, and shortly after when Nova gave the go they walked across the hallway stiffly, their best impersonations of empire soldiers.

He let the rest of the crew do the talking. In all honesty, Atlas was tuning in and out, focusing all of his efforts on not tapping his foot impassively against the cold metal floor, or not throwing himself across the hallway and banging on every door in sight.

The exchange seems to go well enough as the guards come off duty, but just as they were walking past one of them clamps a hand on Atlas’ armored shoulder. 

“See you for game night later?" 

Every instinct tells Atlas to grab the man’s arm and flip him to the ground, but he takes a steadying breath and manages to grit out, “I’ll be there.”

His friends shoot him a wry look from behind their visors, but he just rolls his eyes and shoulders past them towards the seemingly endless row of doors.

Each door has a small slit that’s just about eye level, and he and Nova go opposite ways as they peer through one after another. Some of the cells were empty, others had prisoners sleeping or sitting about inside, but most of them didn’t even notice Atlas was there. He passed another, and another, and another, but none held that familiar engineer. This door had a man with two heads. The other, a woman with rippling muscles and blue skin. The third held a small group, all of them varying vastly in appearance except for a bright head of green hair and matching tattoos on their necks. He was growing rather impatient when finally a hissed whisper came from the other end of the corridor.

“Atlas. She’s here.”

With a jolt he turned and took off towards Nova, and as he approached the door— which she, with a grim expression, was already typing into the keypad of to hack open— he felt his hope replenishing. There she would be, behind that door, close to the safety of the crew. They would break her out, and he would hold her in her arms and beg her never, ever to scare him half to death like that again.

And then he saw her.

He hunched slightly and peered into the eye-slit, and then he _saw_ her. It felt like his heart physically stopped beating. For a second his mind just went black.

Hallie was sitting at the far end of the room, knees up and arms draped over them, her head tilted as she looked blankly to the side. He couldn’t even tell if she was awake. But what caught Atlas’ attention, what strangled all the breath out of his lungs, were the bruises scattered over her pale skin. Where freckles would usually be were bright red spots from recent hittings, scratches of blood down her arms and legs, and marks over her neck, dark purple circles around her eyes.

Atlas went deathly still. Someone had hurt her. Badly. His girl. Hallie. Someone had hurt her.

He swore he could physically feel the blood boil in his body, could feel the pulse pound against his ears as a deep, dark, furious rage boiled over from his stomach. He could basically feel himself snarling when some noise distantly sounding like “watch out!” reached his ears, though he was so lost in the depth of his anger that it sounded like it was from underwater. He didn’t even bother to look as he immediately reacted, pivoting on one foot and slamming his fist into whatever was coming at him.

It turns out it was an empire soldier, a real one, and the metal around Atlas’ fist made a scraping sound against the metal of the soldier’s helmet. Another three came down the corridor, and Atlas could just make out the sounds of fighting up ahead, but he just went at them too, all fury and no control. He slammed his boot into the chest of one and kicked off him, using the momentum to slam his elbow into another. His gun sat heavily against his hip but he finds that thrashing them physically was so much better for relieving the rage chewing his heart out.

Reinforcements came into the hallway and Atlas turned to see Nova getting up as if to come help him, but as he’s flipping the next guard over his back he calls out sharply to her, “No! Stay there and focus on getting her out.” His voice is low and dangerous as he continues, “I’ll keep these guys busy.”

Orion and Jaxon come crashing into the hallway, Empire helmets now discarded as they fight too, but Atlas barely notices the extra help. His gun is finally out but even still it’s not the usual controlled, skilled shots he’s learned to make over the years— it’s all passion and blows, all point blank reckless shots, or even more commonly just jamming the butt of the gun against someone for extra damage.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been at it but some part of him doesn’t even mind. If he’s fighting these grunts then he’s keeping Nova in the clear to break out Hallie, but even more than that if he’s busy slamming his boot against someone’s back then he’s too busy to deal with the feelings threatening to tear him up on seeing Hallie hurt. He couldn’t deal with those feelings, couldn’t even acknowledge them— he couldn’t. Because if he did then he’d think about how she had gotten those horrible bruises, how someone had hit her until she was bloodied, how she had cried out in pain and he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.

Atlas’ distractions let him stumble for a moment and a gun beam clipped him on the side, and now off his balance someone managed to land a clean strike against his face, his helmet having been scattered somewhere on the floor along the fight. He turned around and shot above him, hearing grunts, before his eyes caught Nova’s. She was still working dutifully on the door, but she gave him one clear nod.

_Almost done._

With a renewed yell he propelled himself upwards and used the momentum to throw another punch, leading to a sadistic smirk briefly appearing on his lips as the soldier went out cold in one hit. Someone came up behind them and he fired three shots of his gun into their chest. At least focusing on the all-consuming anger felt damn good even as he could feel his knuckles going numb.

Orion and Jaxon pushed back until they were all fighting near each other, but the reinforcements had kept coming. Even as the crowd of enemies seemed to slim the adrenaline started to fade from his veins until he was throwing rougher shots and missing more. A few more hits landed on him but he had just enough adrenaline left to keep pushing forward. He jammed his gun into one enemy’s helmet, ripped it off, and in one fluid motion put his hand around the man’s head and brought it slamming down as his knee went flying up.

He had never fought like this, had never let his emotions take full control in the middle of a battle, but now it was easy to give himself over to the rage. Atlas was left panting but just behind that last guard was another, his gun pointed straight at Atlas’ chest and his finger moving towards the trigger. He barely had time to swear _shit_ under his breath when something was flung at the enemy man, distracting him long enough for a heavy gunshot to knock him against the ground.

The gunshot was from Nova, who stood there impressively, already firing more shots into the dwindling crowd of enemies. But he barely noticed that, because behind her, the one that threw a discarded helmet at the man that had been fighting Atlas, was Hallie. She was still scraped and her bruises still stood out against her pale skin like ink blotches on paper, but there was a look of fierce determination on her face that made his heart stutter. The look was so alive, so different from the unconscious slump he had seen her in in the cell.

His feet were already propelling him forward without him being aware of it, and next thing he knew he was throwing his arms around her shoulders, pressing her into him. Relief hit him like a freight train, and for a moment all he could do was sag against her as he buried his nose against her hair. His mind went blank, just filled with the sheer pleasure of holding her, of her rising and falling chest against his, the breath in her. She mumbled something, wrapped her thin arms around him, and despite her brave face a moment ago he could feel her trembling lightly.

Hallie pulled back just enough to crane her neck up at him. She had watery eyes and a sad smile that canceled out all the roars of battle around them. All that existed in this moment for Atlas was her, _her_ , the elegant curve of her collarbones, the gentle slope of her shoulders, the kindness and sorrow in her intelligent eyes. “I-I’m so sorry, I-I thought I could—” she whispered at him, starting to fumble her words in panic, but he cut her off by leaving one long, firm kiss against the crown of her head.

Understanding what he meant, the way she somehow always did, she gave him a soft, genuine smile. Bruises and scrapes and all, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

A moment later a gunshot fired wide and he curled over her, shielding her from the shot that skimmed past them. He glared over at Jaxon who gave an apologetic wave before knocking out the guilty soldier.

“Come on,” Atlas said, shrugging out of the reunion moment. Hallie reached down to pick up a discarded union gun, grabbed his hand, and with that resolute nod of hers that he utterly loved started running down the hallway.

“Don’t engage,” Orion called out to his crew as they started making their way out of the hallway, “just focus on getting out!”

The rest of the mission passed as a quick blur of time as they fought their way off the ship, threw themselves onto the Promise, and all but launched her on a path out of the galaxy. By the time Atlas could turn autopilot on and let out a sigh of relief, he tuned in to the conversation to see that they were each taking their turns thoroughly (albeit lovingly) scolding Hallie.

On her part she was just bowing her head repeatedly, letting out “I’m sorry,” “I won’t do it again,” and “I’ll rely on the crew next time,” every so often when appropriate. And sometimes when not appropriate— he loved that awkward side of her too.

Atlas made his way over just when Orion gave a resigned sigh, and with a tiny, rare, fond roll of his eyes said, “Okay. I think we’ve done enough. You’re good to go.”

She shot him a grateful glance, mumbling something about being sorry one last time.

They all dispersed a bit, staying on the bridge but doing their own thing. Orion and Nova spoke quietly about what they would have to stock up on at the next pit stop. Atlas shared a soft look with Hallie only to jump at a strong clap on his shoulder, Jaxon slinging his arm around the slightly taller man.

“But really, if you think we’re Mother Henning you, you should have seen how worried this guy was. I mean, you know he’s always scowling, but this time I swear h—” an elbow to the ribs made him wince and take his arm away. “Ow, okay, okay. Won’t reveal all of best friend’s secret emotions. Whatever.”

Hallie gave Jaxon an appreciative smile, though as she moved to stand she couldn’t help wincing.

“Come on kid,” Atlas said, concern flashing behind his mostly neutral expression. “Let’s get you patched up.”

She nodded. As they went to walk towards his room Atlas took one pause just before leaving the bridge. He put a hand on Jaxon’s shoulder, looked him square in the eyes, and gave a nod before mumbling “Thanks.” Jaxon just smiled and nodded back, and Atlas followed his girlfriend down the hallway.

She stood in the middle of the room, wringing her hands together, casting her glance this way and that. A nervous chuckle escaped her as Atlas closed the door behind him.

“I’m glad to be back here,” she said softly, before turning to look him in the eyes. “Atlas I— I’m so sorry I—”

For some reason for the second time that day he found his feet moving without asking his brain first at all; one moment he was staring at the sad curve of her battered up eyebrows, and the next he was holding her against him, leaning his head down to press his lips to hers. All thoughts promptly left him, his mind blank with bliss, with relief, the same effect she always had on him. They were still impossibly soft as she kissed him back, but there was the iron taste of the bloody cut on her lip that brought him back to attention.

Slowly he pulled away, blinking down slowly and peering into those teary copper eyes of hers that held a mix of emotions: joy, relief, sorrow, apology. But overwhelmingly, love. Hallie still looked at him with sheer adoration, though at the present moment still twinged with guilt, and it had an immensely calming effect on him. He could feel the tension drift out of his shoulders, could feel his arms loosen their grip so they were just hanging around her hips, and could feel a breath that he hadn’t been aware he was holding escape him.

For once he made no active attempt to build his walls back up— whether out of sheer exhaustion or because they had grown so close he knew it no longer really mattered, he just let his eyes show what he felt, what he couldn’t quite put into words. The love, the respect, and most overwhelmingly the relief that was still seeping from him in waves. She was okay. She was hurt, but she was okay.

She bit her lip, and with a soft glance, Atlas turned away from her to rifle around his room for his first aid kit. Hallie took a seat at the edge of their bed, hands folded in her lap.

“Thank you,” she half-whispered, after a moment.

He looked up from where he had been searching to raise an eyebrow at her, before continuing to search.

“For coming to rescue me.”

His eyes met hers meaningfully. He grabbed the kit that was sitting in one of his drawers, walked over to her, and in a low, almost reverent voice said “Always.” He ghosted his fingertips over her skin, careful not to irritate any of her bruises, and despite his calloused hand, his touch was infinitely gentle. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “For you,” he continued, “Always.”

The evening passed as one not too out of the ordinary for the Promise crew. As Atlas worked on cleaning and covering her injuries Hallie apologized, and this time he didn’t cut her off. A few times she made an impossibly cute face while wincing at the slight sting of the antiseptic, and Atlas couldn’t help chuckling. She shoved his shoulder.  She explained why she felt she had to do what she did, and how next time she knew to trust the crew. No man left behind. With surprising neatness he put bandages over every open cut. She reminded him how much she loved him, and as he reminded her too he felt a glow in his heart which he tried and failed not to show on his face.

And later that night, with the Promise flying her crew somewhere new and blissfully neutral, with Hallie tangled around him, her face pillowed on his shoulder, her waist securely wrapped in his arms, his body curved over hers protectively, Atlas felt drowsiness tugging pleasantly at him. He placed a kiss against her forehead, and under the cover of night whispered “I love you more than the stars.” Still asleep she mumbled something incoherently, burrowing herself further into his chest.

The small smile tugging at her lips was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my one-shot! I always love giving pain to my favorite characters :,). I hope you liked it (or hated it, or hate me, for causing them this pain), and if you did, leaving a kudos and/or comment would be greatly appreciated! Also maybe check out my other fics and see if any of those interest you?


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